The First Battle
by MissLizzyJ
Summary: Kitty and Matt come to an understanding. Takes place early in season one.


A/N Thank you to my friend BB, my beta for this story. You can thank her, too, for insisting it needed more of an ending than I originally gave it.

The First Battle

"_I found out the big man wore a big badge and he didn't think he had any right to get involved in any kind of 'permanent relationship.' Oh, we really fought some battles about that…." _Kitty, "Gold Train: The Bullet," season 17

She couldn't believe he'd actually remembered. Right after he'd said "Next time I get a day off, we'll fish," all hell broke loose. Finally, a month later, fully healed from Dan Grat's bullet and all the trail herds gone for the season, Matt walked into the Long Branch late Friday morning and asked her within earshot of Bill Pence if she could get Sunday off. Bill said he didn't think he'd be needing her that day and made himself scarce. Blushing slightly by this point, Matt shyly said that if nothing serious came up before then, he was taking Sunday off and would she like to go fishing with him? Kitty smiled up at him and replied that she'd be proud to, her heart pounding wildly. He remembered, after all. He'd even given her plenty of time to get ready.

She spent part of Saturday making sure her clothes were ready, so all she had to do Sunday morning was fix her hair and make sandwiches for their lunch. She left the paint off her face except for a little powder, and left her hair down except for the little bit she tied back with a blue ribbon that matched her dress perfectly. She looked at her reflection anxiously, wondering if the dress she'd chosen really suited her any longer. Its full skirt and flowery printed were suited to a younger, more innocent girl, which indeed she had been the first time she'd worn it. Nonetheless, she'd kept it because it was the first dress she'd had that made her feel grown-up. Not sentimental by nature, she rationalized keeping it because it still fit her, despite being several inches too short. She had only worn it once since coming to Dodge, and coincidentally or not, it had been the last time Matt had taken her fishing. When she remembered the smile on his face when he first saw her in it, and the way his eyes had lingered on her, her mind was made up.

At eleven o'clock, there was a knock on her door that she already recognized as Matt's. They stood silently in the doorway taking in the sight of each other. Kitty could tell by the look on Matt's face that, once again, he liked what he saw. She liked what she saw, too. Matt had also dressed up. Although he had no proper courting jacket that Kitty knew of, he was wearing his fancy pinstriped vest that she'd only seen him wear to court, and a brand-new string tie; Mr. Jonas had just gotten in some like it last week. Finally, Matt was the first to break the silence. "Bill told me he thought you'd probably be ready by now."

"Bill thought right." Kitty smiled up at Matt and lightly rested her hand on the arm he was holding out. "Wait, we can't forget our lunch!" She reached back and grabbed the picnic basket, which she handed to Matt, then locked her door and slipped the key down the front of her corset.

Matt raised his eyebrows. "You'd better be careful, you don't want to lose that out on the prairie."

Kitty looked down, letting her eyelashes flutter slightly, then looked back up at him. "Oh, I'm not likely to lose anything when I have the marshal to look out for me," she said, with the tiniest hint of seduction in her voice.

Matt reddened slightly and wrapped his hand around her upper arm. "Come on, that horse is going to leave without us."

The buggy was waiting in the alley between the Long Branch and Doc's office, and they were soon on their way, basket of food on the floor between them. Although it was sunny, there was a hint of fall chill in the air, and Kitty took a lacy white shawl from the top of the basket and wrapped it around herself as they left town and picked up speed.

"Cold?" Matt looked at her with concern.

"A little," she admitted. Matt took the hint and, shifting the reins to one hand, he put his other arm around her and pulled her a little closer. They rode mostly in silence, enjoying each other's company. Occasionally one of them would point out a small herd of antelope in the distance, a line of birds flying south, or a patch of wildflowers that had stubbornly hung on past summer. When one spoke, the other gazed into their eyes and smiled.

Matt stopped at his favorite fishing spot, the one he always visited when he needed to be alone and think. He had brought Kitty there once before, and they had done some serious fishing, and enjoyed they fish they'd taken back to Dodge for Doc and Chester to fry. Outside of one stolen kiss, he'd been a perfect gentleman. Today, he found himself not caring if they caught a single fish. It was a good thing Kitty had thought to bring a picnic lunch.

"What's in that basket, anyway?" he asked. While he got the fishing lines ready, Kitty spread a blanket nearby.

"Oh, just some ham sandwiches." Then, as if just remembering each additional item, "A little potato salad. Half an apple pie. And a bottle of my special lemonade."

"What's your special lemonade?"

"You'll find out," she teased.

"Good! Let's eat."

"Don't you want to wait and see if we catch anything first?" Kitty looked slightly amused, suspecting what was on his mind. Or maybe the big marshal was just hungry.

"Nope. I'm hungry now!"

Kitty threw back her head and laughed. Shaking his head, Matt pounded the ends of the fishing poles into the ground next to the creek with the thought that a little fishing might get done while he and Kitty attended to other activities. That task out of the way, he turned to see that Kitty had spread the food out on the blanket and was sitting, feet curled under her, and pouring lemonade from the largest whiskey bottle he'd ever seen.

"I bet I know what's in that 'special lemonade' of yours."

"I bet you're right. Sit down." She nodded at a spot close to her. He sat, facing her, and she handed him a plate loaded with sandwiches and potato salad. She put the one remaining sandwich on her plate and nibbled at it as she watched him eat. Matt ate heartily, occasionally feeding Kitty a bite of his potato salad. They polished off the pie together, eating it straight out of the pan. Matt, well aware that he ate two large bites for every one Kitty took, scooped the last bit of it up with his fork and held it out for her to finish. Although it was the same bread and meat the Long Branch served with their free lunch, and he knew Ma Smalley's potato salad and pie when he tasted it, just the thought that Kitty had taken the time to put it together for them made it one of the best meals he'd ever eaten.

"You like the lemonade?" she asked him, seeing his glass was empty.

"By golly, that's some special lemonade all right." He held out his glass and she poured the last of the bottle into it. They sipped from their glasses quietly until it was gone, then Matt went to check the almost-forgotten fishing lines.

"Are they biting?" Kitty asked. She had returned all the picnic things to the basket while he was gone and was standing up, shaking the crumbs out of the blanket. .

"Nope."

"Do you want to move over there?" She motioned toward the creek.

"Nope." Against his better judgment, he took the blanket from her hands and spread it back on the ground.

Fishing lines completely forgotten, they barely noticed they were no longer upright but lying flat on top of the blanket. Matt's lips moved up and down her neck, occasionally stopping below her collarbone. The hand that wasn't holding her close at the waist rested on her right breast, stroking her with his thumb, a sensation Kitty found highly agreeable. She ran her hands over Matt's chest and back. Caught up in the moment, she left one hand wander below his belt. Her fingers barely brushed the front of his pants, but his body responded as though she had done much more.

He gasped and gently but firmly took her by the shoulders and moved her away from him. He pushed himself up from the ground and took several steps away, like it was dangerous to be too close to her. "I'm sorry, Kitty, I shouldn't have led you on that way. I-I can't."

Kitty looked up at him, not quite understanding what he was getting at. "I'm pretty sure _that's_ not true," she cooed at him, remembering his initial reaction.

Matt crouched slightly and helped her up. "All right," he sighed. "I can, it's just that I-we have to stop."

"Why?"

"Because we shouldn't-"

"Why not? "

"Because, well, what if you have a baby?"

"What if I do?" Kitty had never felt any particular maternal longings, but she realized she had no objections to the idea of having Matt's baby.

Matt shook his head. "No. We'd have to get married." Matt cursed himself the minute the words were out of his mouth.

"Oh. I see." Kitty felt the bitterness rise up. Matt had never once done or said anything to indicate she wasn't good enough. Was he finally about to show his true colors?

"No, you don't, because I shouldn't have put it that way. I meant, that if I got you with child" he stumbled over the words slightly, "we'd get married, but if something happened to me before we did, then…I can't leave you alone with a bastard child!"

"Well, I know one way around that, Marshal, but then we're right back to you not wanting to marry a saloon girl, aren't we?"

"Now hold it right there, I did not say that! You know I didn't say that!"

Kitty knew, but right then she was too angry, and hurt, to admit the truth of that, if nothing else. "You might not have used those words-" she began, then turned away from him, arms crossed over her waist. She wasn't about to let him see her cry, to let him know how much any of this mattered to her.

"Kitty, just listen for a minute. " He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. She said nothing, but didn't shake him off. "If we got married we'd have a baby. Maybe more than one. And when my time's up, you'd be left alone a widow with children."

"And if that happened, " Kitty turned and faced him, "I would grieve whether or not we were married."

"I know you would," Matt said sadly, cupping her cheek. He should have known better than to let things get this far; to the point they would grieve over one another. "It's not about grieving, Honey. It's about fatherless children. It's about a mother having to support them on her own. We both know something about that, don't we?"

Kitty looked away. Matt was going to win this fight, damn it, but she wasn't ready to admit it.

He went on as if he still needed to convince her. "Forget that I don't really make enough to support a family. I know you aren't going to keep working in a saloon if we get married. What are you going to do when I'm gone? Take in laundry?"

"Ugh," Kitty groaned.

Matt smiled sadly. "Be a seamstress? You said yourself you can't do anything beyond mending."

"I can learn!" she protested.

Matt shook his head and turned away. Kitty followed, reaching for him. It was obvious he wasn't going to give in when it came to marriage, but she'd bet every last dollar she had that he didn't really want to walk away from her.

"Matt," she did softly, and he stopped. She stepped in front of him and rested her palms on his chest. "You want me, right?" She wasn't going to press her luck by saying love or even like, though she was sure she was right on at least one count.

"Yeah. I want you," Matt answered. She'd never seen him look more miserable, not even when he was walking the streets of Dodge with Doc, trying to get his strength back after being shot.

"You know there are ways to keep from having a baby, don't you? Other than staying away from me, I mean."

"I guess. " He'd heard of such, but had no idea of the specifics. "Not exactly foolproof, though, are they?"

"Maybe not, but… " Kitty paused here. She really did not want to say what she needed to say here, to bring up one of the ways she made her living in the context of her hoped-for relationship with Matt. "I've been at this awhile, and I don't have any children." It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie, either.

"Uh huh," Matt grunted, unsmiling. He didn't like being reminded of what she did for a living any more than she liked bringing it up, even knowing that if he wasn't so stubborn about it, she could stop.

"If you're willing to compromise, you can have me." Kitty realized she was gambling on his not being put off by such forward talk. Not the way he'd been looking at her for months.

"What compromise?"

"You trust me to take every precaution there is…."

"What's the rest of it?" he asked warily.

"That's your part."

Matt grimaced, not really caring for the terms, but he nodded. "If it doesn't work, we'll get married."

Their eyes met and neither could voice the final part of the compromise: _If he didn't get shot first._

"So," Matt asked rather sheepishly, "does this mean we can go back to what we were doing before? "

"Hmmm," Kitty said thoughtfully. " I guess I'm not as...prepared...as I could have been…. " Seeing the stricken look on Matt's face she continued, "but of course there are still one or two things we could do that don't require taking that risk."

Matt had reached for her eagerly before she was finished talking. "I know about those things," he said hoarsely, pulling her against him.

"Hold on, Cowboy, we've got plenty of time," she whispered when she felt his fingers working the buttons at the back of her neck. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

For the first time in their acquaintance, Kitty heard Matt swear quietly as he let go of the buttons, dropping his hands to her waist. Kitty gave a little moan when she realized the cause of the swearing. Muffled hoofbeats gradually becoming louder signalled someone approaching at a gallop. Their eyes met once more as they both realized the hoofbeats sounded just a little too familiar.

Moments later Chester, riding Buck, rounded the curve of the path that led to what Matt had previously thought was his private fishing spot, his assistant proving to be a better tracker than he'd given him credit for.

Kitty suppressed a grin when Matt pulled her in front of him. Once Chester had finished telling them his detailed story of the shooting in the Bulls Head, with the killer apparently headed for Spearville, Matt asked him to go hitch up the buggy so he could drive Kitty back. Chester started gathering the fishing and picnic things, wondering why Mister Dillon was acting so strange-like, standing around behind Miss Kitty like that when he could be helping or even sneaking a kiss goodbye with her behind his back….

"Well, I swan to goodness! Forevermore," Chester stuttered, the explanation finally dawning on him. He hung back around the buggy, giving them their privacy, until he finally heard Matt shout "Thanks, Chester!" and Kitty's light footsteps as she joined him at the buggy.

All the way back, Kitty could feel Chester's sly looks at her, as if he was afraid she resented his interruption. Strangely, she did not. Matt had given her a relatively chaste kiss, considering what they had been about to do, but when he whispered "See you later, Kitty," before riding away, the look of anticipation in his eyes had made her feel weak all over and she'd needed to compose herself before walking to the buggy. She'd never been one to play hard to get, but perhaps it would do Matt good, now that they had come to an understanding, to wait a day or two or however long it took him to get back before he got what he finally admitted he wanted. And now that she'd had a spell to think it over, she wanted their first time to be special, not a few stolen moments doing "things" that didn't involve risking pregnancy. She wondered if Matt would realize that in the argument they'd just had, he'd been the one to bring up marriage and children. She had gotten upset not because he wouldn't marry her, but because she'd felt not worth marrying. She backed down when she realized he was sincere about his reasons for not marrying, even if she didn't agree with them. Suddenly, she was stunned by the realization that Matt had actually spoken of marriage and children as if they might actually happen in the future, as much, or nearly so, as he expected to be killed in the line of duty. Maybe it was just that neither of them were ready for marriage or children. Maybe someday-

"Did you have a good time fishing?" Chester suddenly interrupted her thoughts.

"Hmm?" she asked, pretending to have been asleep.

"I said, did you and Mister Dillon have a good day fishing?"

"Oh, it was all right. Neither one of us caught anything, though. "

"Oh. Well, maybe next time." Chester, evidently thinking Kitty was tired and needed to get home, flicked the reins to hurry the horse along.

"Yeah, Chester, maybe next time." Kitty tightened her shawl around her shoulders and settled back against the buggy seat, smiling.

* * *

Kitty peered into the mirror atop the make-shift dressing table in her room at the Long Branch. She kept the light dim to make the oil last, but it was enough to tell that her face was clear of the paint that was her stock in trade. She always took care of her skin, but this night she had taken special care to also bathe away the grime of a night of saloon work and freshen her perfume, and now she was carefully brushing every last tangle from her hair as she listened hopefully. Two days ago, Chester had come in, paid for two beers, and joined her in her usual spot at the end of the bar. As she murmured her thanks, he reached into his pocket and casually laid an open telegram in front of her. After glancing at the message, she kept her smile to herself and passed it back to Chester with a quick nod. Matt had caught his man, who turned out to be wanted for other crimes, and was taking him to Topeka to await trial. He expected to be home in two days, making him due back that night.

The saloon was closed for the night, but Matt, as marshal, had a key to the back door, and could let himself in if he still intended to "see her later," and if it meant what she thought it did. She thought she might have heard Buck ride in around the time the saloon fell silent, but that had been some time ago, so maybe she was mistaken. Then she heard it-quiet but unmistakably male footfalls on the stairs. Her heart beat erratically and not until the feet stopped at her door, followed by gentle tapping and an even softer "Kitty, it's me" was she able to breathe.

Her hands shook as she turned the key and slid back the bolt. She grasped the doorknob before she had a chance to lose her nerve, and suddenly, there was Matt, filling up her doorway.

"Evening, Cowboy," she greeted him, marveling that she sounded as calm and in control as if he were any other man.

Matt pushed up the brim of his hat with one finger and then, not knowing what to do with his hands, hung his thumbs over his belt. He took in the sight of her, wearing a ruffled pink robe that he suspected had nothing but freckled skin under it, hair tumbling enticingly around her shoulders, and wondered how he had managed not to grab her and ravish her right there in the hall. Wasn't she going to ask him in?

"Hello, Kitty." He grinned at her. "Can I buy you a drink?"

She shook her head. "Tonight it's on the house." She held out her hand and he stepped into her room, the door closing behind him.

End


End file.
